A Kiss Is Still A Kiss
by fennecfawkes
Summary: Chad/Ryan. Ryan Evans fears a lot of things. Kissing girls tops the list. Don't own these characters, but if I did, High School Musical probably wouldn't be rated TV-G.
1. It's That Pivotal Moment

There weren't many things that scared Ryan Evans, but this was certainly one of them.

To console himself, he made a list of things that were worse than this. The jellyfish that snaked around his ankles whenever he was at the Hawaii beach house. Facial acne that oozed pus like water out of a faucet. When the dark denim color disappeared from his jeans after a single wash. Ghost stories in a place with no electricity and, thus, no lights.

Yes, jellyfish, acne, faded jeans, and ghost stories were all horrible things. But this? This was just ridiculous.

When he'd auditioned for _Romeo and Juliet_, Ryan had no delusion he'd get the part. Sure, it was an off-off-Broadway production, but certainly there were better actors than he going out for the part. But he got the call, and he landed the role, and now he'd be playing Romeo Montague for nine consecutive nights in February. The best part was Chad Danforth had planned a visit for Valentine's Day, so Ryan would be able to perform with his boyfriend in the audience.

There was a hitch, though. And it wasn't a minor hitch. It was a colossal, monstrous, horrifying hitch.

He, Ryan Evans, gayer than Christmas, gayer than the day was long, so gay he wasn't even sure he was gay anymore, had to kiss a girl, and make it look like he liked it.

It wasn't as though Amy was ugly or even unappealing. She just wasn't a guy. Come to that, she wasn't Chad. And after the first time he'd kissed Chad in the hot tub in his parents' basement, Ryan had made and kept a vow to himself that he'd never kiss anyone but his current boyfriend. And now, there went that.

And it wasn't like it was just once, either. Not only did it happen multiple times throughout the play, there were rehearsals, and dress rehearsals, and performances. Nine of them. How was he supposed to do that? How was he supposed to play tonsil hockey with some non-Chad girl so many times over, and over, and over?

The weirdest part was how unperturbed Chad seemed. In fact, he seemed to think it was ... well, funny.

"So you have to kiss a girl. Why does that matter at all?"

"I calculated it, Chad. And according to my calculations, I have to kiss Amy at least 74 times."

"Well, that's a lot. But I bet we've kissed more than that."

"That doesn't matter!"

"Oh, thanks."

"You know what I mean. It's just ... I need to keep this part, but—"

"Hold up," Chad interrupted. "You considered quitting because of this?"

"Well, yeah."

"That's really cute, Ry."

Ryan blushed, and was glad Chad couldn't see it. He always got mocked for that. "I just didn't want to threaten our relationship."

Chad laughed. Loudly. "What, you think you're going to enjoy it or something? Like, you'd find kissing a girl pleasurable?"

"Alright, I guess it is kind of ridiculous. She has a crush on me, though."

"So many misled girls do."

"I can't help being this irresistible," said Ryan with a sigh.

"You'll let her down easy, right?"

"Of course."

"So, hey, what are you wearing?"


	2. Let's Let Everything Slide

As it turned out, kissing Amy wasn't all bad. Mostly, it felt like an extended hug that ended up on the lips. He wasn't at all revolted by it. Neither was Amy. In fact, unfortunately, it was quite the opposite. Amy seemed to quite enjoy kissing Ryan and flirtatiously suggested practicing at her apartment more than once.

"I can't believe she's actually coming on to me," Ryan said to Chad one night after rehearsal. They were on their web cams this time around, so he could see that almost annoyingly beautiful face on the other side of the States.

"It's just because you're so nice," said Chad. "I mean, before we dated, I could never tell if you were flirting with me or not, because it seemed like you acted that way with everyone."

"Really? Sucks for you. I totally was. You know how long I liked you before, right?"

"I think you've said. Eighth grade, right?"

"Seventh," Ryan corrected him. "Just look so damn good in those basketball shorts."

"Even before I hit puberty?"

"Oh, you'd hit it by then. I bet I could pick out the exact calendar date it happened."

Chad laughed. "It's crazy. You always knew you were gay, and I only figured it out senior year."

"Well, maybe you're not gay. Maybe you're just an Evanssexual."

"Yeah, that's probably it. 'Evanssexual.' Can I use that next time I get hit on?"

"Of course you can."

Chad looked over his shoulder. "I should go. John's here, and he's gonna want to get dinner. Love you. Good luck with Amy."

"Love you too. Good luck with the game tomorrow."

"I'll play for you." Chad winked and signed off. His roommate was cool, very accepting of the fact that his jockish, guy's guy roommate was dating a flamboyant, musical theatre-loving fag. Ryan grinned at the now blank computer screen and stood. Stretching, he wondered what he'd do that evening. He could go over the script, maybe, or just watch an old Gene Kelly movie. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. He was about to settle in with _Brigadoon _when he got a text from Amy reading "What r u up 2 2nite?"

Ryan rolled his eyes. Well, no time like the present, he supposed.

"Nothing. You should come over," he sent back. In 20 minutes, Amy was on his couch, wearing far too little clothing for January and looking like she was preparing to feast on something. Ryan hoped it wasn't him, though he already knew it was.

"I was thinking of watching _Brigadoon_," he said after offering her something to drink, then facing her disappointment when he said he didn't have any alcohol. "Have you seen it?"

"Never heard of it," Amy said absently, still looking as though she'd like to eat him. "Is it any good?"

"It's a classic," said Ryan. "I think you'll like it." At least he'd get some Gene out of the evening.

As soon as the movie started, Amy began inching her way across the futon. Soon, her leg was resting against Ryan's. OK, that was no big deal. Nothing wrong with two legs touching each other. Completely innocent. Totally platonic. Then Amy put her hand on Ryan's leg and moved it up his thigh a bit. OK, there might be a problem there. Then Amy leaned her head toward Ryan's ear and started nibbling...

"Amy!" Ryan practically shouted. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Practicing," said Amy with a grin. "You like it?"

"No. No, I really don't."

Amy's countenance fell. "Really? I kind of thought ... I thought we kind of liked each other. Don't we?"

Ryan sighed. "Amy, I'm gay. And I have a boyfriend."

"You're _what_?"

This had happened enough times that for once, Ryan decided to react honestly.

"How could you not _tell_? I wear pink, I compliment girls on their shoes, I don't drink anything but Mai Tais and cosmos, I enjoy musical theatre, and I've never once made a comment on what a nice rack someone had! Amy, I'm the most obviously gay guy you've probably ever met, and you didn't notice? You were that desperate to convince yourself that I liked you?"

Amy looked like she was on the verge of tears. Ryan cursed under his breath.

"Look, I didn't mean to hurt you. It's just ... this has happened before. And hey, if I liked girls, I'd totally be into you." She smiled slightly. "But I'm not. I'm dating this really great guy, and I think he might be, you know, the one."

Amy nearly visibly melted, and Ryan knew he'd hit the right schmaltzy note. He asked if she wanted to see a picture, and of course she did, so the two of them spent the rest of the evening talking about how awesome Chad was, and how awesome it was that he and Ryan were together, and how awesome of a guy Ryan was for explaining everything so clearly, even if he freaked out a little at first. When she finally left, just after midnight, Ryan gave Chad a call.


	3. You Got Me Floating, Got Me Flying

"Hey, what's this for?" Chad asked. "I never get late night calls. And dude, if you're looking for phone sex, no can do. I just jerked off while I was thinking about you, and—"

Ryan laughed and cut him off. "No, while that's all very flattering, that's not why I called. Chad, Amy came on to me. Like, really did. Like, hand on thigh, lips on ear came on to me."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Pretty awkward when I yelled at her about all the reasons she should've noticed I was gay."

"Oh, that's priceless. That's fantastic."

"I'm glad you think so."

"So, you didn't take her up on her offer, then?"

"No, I showed her pictures of you instead."

"Aw, that's cute."

"Oh, yeah, I really laid it on thick. Told her how long I'd knew you, how long I liked you, how I thought you were the one..."

The line went quiet.

"Chad? You still there?"

"Were you B.S.-ing?"

"What?"

"Were you bullshitting her? Or do you really feel that way?"

"Oh, God. Seriously, do we have to talk about this?"

"Yes. I think we do."

Ryan sighed. "Yes. Yes, I do think you're the one. I know we're only 19, but I really feel like you're the only person I'd ever want to spend my life with. And I'm in love with you. But you knew that part already."

Again, Chad didn't say anything.

"Chad, say something. I'm freaking out over here." And he was, sweaty palms and dizziness and all.

When Chad did speak, he sounded a bit choked up, "Couldn't have put it better myself. I feel the same way about you. All of it. Everything you said."

"Oh. Good. Thank God." Both Chad and Ryan laughed.

"So, I really don't want to say good night, but I have class in the morning."

"You go to your classes?"

"Ha, ha. Yes, I do. And I'd kind of like to go this one, on account of there's a test."

"Oh, well, good luck, then. And good night."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

February, Ryan thought, couldn't come fast enough.


	4. It's A Feeling Like This

Ryan hardly had time to take a breath in early February, when full dress rehearsals began and he was still expected to function as an above average student at Julliard. Plus, now Sharpay and his parents were planning a weekend trip to the city, and they'd be there opening night. Chad would arrive a few days later, but that stressed him out far less than his family seeing him perform.

"I don't get it. You? Nervous? Really?"

"Yeah, I am." It was Thursday, meaning opening night was the next night, meaning Ryan was a mess and talking to Chad seemed to be the only surefire way to calm himself down. "I've never really acted on my own. It's usually me and Shar, you know? And this time she's in the audience. She's paying to watch me. Well, more accurately, my parents are paying for her to watch me. But still. She's a spectator. I'm the spectacle."

Chad laughed. "Yeah, you really are, aren't you?"

"You're supposed to be making me less nervous and telling me how incredible and fascinating and brilliant I am."

"I thought you were getting less nervous, just talking about it."

"I guess I am. Damn it, Chad. How are you so good at this?"

"What?"

"Being you. Being amazing."

"Guess I was born that way."

"And I was born incredible and fascinating and brilliant, right?"

"Right. Exactly. I was going to say that. Then you said I was amazing, and I just got distracted thinking about how true it is."

Ryan laughed. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Ry. You should get some rest, though. And you really gotta stop calling after midnight. We have morning classes, remember?"

"Ah, yeah, those. Well, after the play's done, I won't be having these hellishly long rehearsals, so we can go back to the old schedule. Is that fair?"

"We have a schedule. That's so ridiculous."

"I know. You love it."

"I do."

"Love you."

"Love you too. Sweet dreams."

"The sweetest."

Ryan had half a mind to sleep away the next day till showtime, but dutifully, he drank his Americana latte, attended his classes, and got to his rehearsal early with enough pad Thai for Amy, the guys playing Benvolio and Mercutio, the director, and himself. They were the ones who consistently showed up on time, and for that, Ryan figured they needed to be rewarded.

"Ryan Evans, you're a saint," said Mark, who played Benvolio.

"Yeah, this totally makes up for how disgusted you are every time you have to kiss me," Amy joked. Ryan shoved her playfully and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Hey, Amy, I think that one sound guy has a thing for you," said Damon. "Adam, I think?"

"Adam's a good kid," Lowell said. Lowell Shipman was a somewhat notorious director in NYC's underground theatre scene. He worked his actors and crew to the bone and never took shit from anyone, which many people hated, but everyone respected. Generally, Ryan and Lowell got along fairly well, though Ryan had caught hell the two times he'd been late to practice.

"The two of you," continued Lowell, "would go well together."

"I don't think I've ever even seen this guy," said Amy, who was blushing slightly.

"He sits in the booth most of the time," Ryan said. "Oh! He's coming in right now. Act natural."

Damon whistled to himself, Mark twiddled his thumbs, and Lowell and Ryan began a loud conversation about the 1960s film version of _Romeo and Juliet_.

"You guys are terrible at this," Amy said before waving hello to Adam and striking up a conversation. After some obvious flirtation, she and Ryan went backstage to suit up, get made up, and get some ridiculous things done to their hair.

Despite his nervousness about Sharpay sitting third row center, Ryan thought the show went off without a hitch. Amy was absolutely radiant as Juliet, hitting all the right notes, even when things turned tragic. She'd had trouble conveying those emotions in the past, but that night, she topped herself. And he performed ably at worst and, at the risk of seeming egotistical, brilliantly at the best. Simply put, it was the best acting he'd ever done, and his family's reaction reflected that.

"And so the pupil becomes the master," Sharpay said after giving her brother a hug and a kiss on the cheek. His mother handed him flowers and his dad gave him a hearty pat on the back.

"You were wonderful. Magnificent. Really," said Ryan's dad.

"Truly," agreed his mom. "If only Chad could've seen you tonight." His parents loved his boyfriend, and even Sharpay had come around to Chad and Ryan's relationship.

"Shall we eat?" his dad asked. Inexplicably, his parents had made reservations for the Rainbow Room, one of the most lauded and expensive restaurants in the entire city. Ryan nodded vigorously and laughed at Sharpay's identical gesture as they left the theatre among shouted congratulations and compliments to Ryan and hailed a taxi.

Dinner and the mini-tour Ryan gave to his parents were great, but all he really wanted to do was call Chad and tell him how the show went. Eventually, after a stifling number of hugs and kisses, he made it back to his apartment and picked up the phone.

"Hey, been waiting for you," Chad said when he picked up. "How'd it go?"

"Wonderful. Amazing. I've never performed so well in my life."

"Awesome. Congratulations. You gonna save some of that for me?"

"Of course. My mom was disappointed you weren't around to see it."

Chad sighed. "I'm glad that your parents like me. And I'm sorry my dad doesn't, you know, understand."

"Let's not worry about that right now." Chad's father took some issue with homosexuality and still seemed unconvinced that his son was gay. His mother had taken to Ryan right away, though, which softened the blow. "When are you coming in next week?"

"Wednesday afternoon. Did you ask your professors if it's alright for me to tag along to class?"

"Yeah, they said it was fine, especially since you have some interest in theatre. I might have trumped that up a bit, actually."

"It'll be fun to watch you being all talented and brilliant."

"Isn't that all our relationship is, you watching me being awesome?"

"I think you mean the other way around."

"Hey, hey, we're supposed to be talking about how great I am."

"You are. And I love you. But you should get some rest. I want your second show to be just as amazing as the first."

"I love you, too. Thanks for ... being Chad."

Chad laughed. "Anytime."


	5. Centrifugal Motion

Every day was a slog from there until Wednesday. All Ryan thought of the entire day was Chad. Americana latte? Didn't taste as good as Chad. Rolling his eyes at his theatre lecture? Not as fun as watching Chad roll his eyes at Darbus during practice back in the day. And rehearsal was the worst, as he was continually teased by everyone for begging off early to pick up his boyfriend from the airport.

"One hour, 45 minutes," Amy said at one point.

Damon looked at his watch. "Oh, now it's an hour 44."

"Ryan, we can tell you when it's 43?" Mark asked.

"Have your fun now. You'll understand why I'm excited when you meet him," Ryan promised.

Even Lowell teased him a bit, which came as a shock, considering what a hard ass Lowell was. He never let people leave rehearsal till everything reached the level of perfection. But he seemed to understand that Ryan hadn't seen his boyfriend in what felt like years. Christmas had been abbreviated. Ryan only spent a week at home, and much of that time was spent with his family. The three nights he'd had with Chad were nothing short of incredible. And this time, their families, their mutual friends, and their whole world—no one was around, and for an entire week, that would be the case. Granted, Ryan would be in class for a few hours. But that didn't seem to matter very much at all.

Soon, the time trickled down to just a few minutes, and Ryan left before it was truly necessary. No one seemed to mind, catcalling and teasing him as he practically skipped out of the theatre and onto the street. He hopped into the first cab he saw.

"JFK. And an extra 20 bucks if you hurry," he said, grinning at the cabbie in the mirror.

"Sure thing, sir."

It was the longest feeling cab ride of Ryan's life, despite taking about 10 minutes less than it would've without giving the driver some incentive. He tore into the airport and got as close as he could to Chad's terminal. It was the first time that day that minutes were passing as quickly as they were supposed to. Inexplicably, Ryan felt a bit nervous. It had been a couple months. What if Chad wasn't actually as attached as he had been before? What if Ryan didn't look as awesome as usual today? No, that wasn't very likely. He'd dressed carefully that day, all tight jeans and tighter shirt and really great shoes that Chad almost certainly wouldn't notice.

Once he saw Chad, though, maudlin as it felt, all the apprehension melted away. Chad had clearly dressed for him. His boyfriend had paid a visit to J. Crew, and Ryan could tell he'd finally taken his advice to buy clothes one size down. But soon enough, Ryan wasn't paying any attention to Chad's attire. No, not at all. He was sufficiently distracted by Chad's lips on his, their hips bumping together, Chad's hands curled around his neck and waist.

"Chad, you're kissing me in front of everyone," Ryan murmured.

"I couldn't possibly care less," said Chad with a grin. Good Lord, could he get any more attractive? "Oh, just a second." He reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a tiny notebook and a golf pencil. He made a notch on the first page of the book. "That's one."

"Is there are reason you're doing that?" Ryan asked.

"Well, you have to kiss Amy 74 or so times, right?"

Ryan nodded.

"So we're keeping count, just to make sure we pass that up."

Ryan laughed. "I love you. So much."

"I love you too. So, show me your city."

"Gladly. By the way, gay people? Totally normal here."

"Well, in that case..." Chad put an arm around Ryan's waist and left it there. Ryan responded in kind. They kissed and Chad paused to make a note of it before heading into what promised to become Chad's new favorite place.

But first...

"I'm not going to lie to you," Chad said, quietly as possible while remaining audible. "New York looks awesome and everything. But you look better. And all I want to do right now is get you out of those fancy clothes."

Despite having very little shame, Ryan blushed deeply and nodded. "My place, then?"

"Your place," said Chad. "Specifically, your bedroom."

And this was a request with which Ryan could comply.


	6. It's The Way You Love Me

"So sore," Chad moaned. It was 8:30, earlier than Chad would ever wake up for anything but Ryan. "So tired."

Ryan, meanwhile, was whistling, frying bacon in a pan and brewing a pot of coffee while wearing nothing but a towel. "So worth it," he said.

"So true," said Chad, grinning. "You know, I was too distracted to keep count last night."

"I'd chalk us up for 20 at least."

"Oh, it was more than that," Chad said as he stretched and got out of bed. Walking over to the kitchen, he put his arms around Ryan. Ryan turned his head just enough to kiss Chad.

"There's 21," he said.

Chad kissed him again. "22." And again. "23." And again. "24."

"You know what?" Ryan said, cutting off the kisses. "I don't think this can get better. I don't care how good of food we eat, how many landmarks we get to, how many cheesy souvenirs you buy, or how impressed you are with my performance. Right now, just being here, with you and me and nothing else? This is perfect."

"I think so, too." Chad kissed him on the cheek lightly. "I love you."

"So much," Ryan agreed. "I don't have class till 10. We have time to—"

"Don't have to tell me twice," said Chad, grinning. "I'll race you."

And so it was. No matter that Ryan killed and got a call about a one-step-closer-to-Broadway production of _The Merchant of Venice_ that weekend. No matter that Chad was told he'd be starting in his next game, despite being a lowly freshman at University of Albuquerque. And no matter that all Ryan's friends loved Chad and started asking about domestic partnership an hour after meeting him. Ultimately, no matter how cheesy or unreal it felt, all Ryan needed was Chad and his notebook, keeping count of every time his world lit up again.


End file.
